


What to Expect When You're Magespecting

by Elvhenan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lampshade Hanging, M/M, Mpreg, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, demisexual Cullen, past miscarriage (referenced)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3623973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvhenan/pseuds/Elvhenan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Note: Despite the ridiculous title, this fic is not crack.)</p><p>Written for this prompt:</p><p>Halward is becoming increasingly irritated with Dorian. His omega son shows no interest in alphas, or even betas, like he's supposed to. Instead, he only prefers the company of fellow omegas, which makes breeding rather difficult. Halward believes that all Dorian needs to cure him of his homosexuality is to just get a real good dicking from an alpha while in heat; after all, no omega is gay when in heat. The next time Dorian goes in heat, Halward turns his fiancé loose on him.</p><p>Dorian flees Tevinter after the rape and heads to Redcliffe, though he soon discovers he's pregnant. Dealing with his problems isn't exactly something Dorian is good at, so he prefers to just ignore his situation for now and pretend like the pregnancy doesn't exist, actively hiding it from others. Besides, he has a world to save. Corypheus isn't going to put his conquest on hold just because he's knocked up. While at Skyhold, Dorian meets Cullen, who is also an omega...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Author](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Author/gifts).



> I diverged a bit from the prompt, but hopefully not too much. This wouldn't have been written at all had that prompt bunny not bitten me so hard and then refused to let go until I gave in and wrote it. I hope I didn't miss any warnings in the tags, but I don't think there are any others. I'd apologize for the lack of smut, but it's for the best, trust me (I'm really not very good at it). I do, however, apologize for the terrible title; it was a suggestion from a friend and far too cheesybad to resist. I have a love for truly bad puns.
> 
> Any and all feedback is welcomed!

It was the scent that first tipped him off. Though Cullen didn't often find himself in Dorian's vicinity, Tevinter perfumes couldn't quite mask that distinctive scent. That, and it seemed Dorian was wearing far more perfume than necessary, and he'd spent long enough around omega mages to pick up that particular sort of furtiveness to know what it could mean. The amount of perfume could be a Tevinter thing, he supposed, as he hadn't ever met any others, but despite Dorian's obviously noble upbringing and the tendency of nobles of any lands to overdo things and call it fashionable, he had a feeling Dorian was hiding something. Something likely harmless, given the fact Leliana hadn't alerted him and precious little slipped past her, but something that was possibly important.

Cullen told himself it was out of concern for Dorian's well-being, and that of the Inquisition as a whole, that he began finding excuses to check up on the mage. Mostly so it sounded more convincing than the fact he simply wished to spend more time with the other omega, and so no one thought him being an ex-Templar had anything to do with his interest in following a foreign mage around. As it was, with his numerous other duties since arriving at Skyhold, he had precious little time to trail Dorian, much less ask about his day and other small talk that was definitely not flirting.

If his suspicions weren't so set on one particular reason for Dorian's odd behavior (as if he had any basis for "normal" behavior to compare it to, but he hadn't been a Templar for over a decade without picking up on certain things) he'd have involved Leliana and some of her people into investigating the mage. Call it omega instinct or whatever other rubbish, but he had a hunch that Dorian was keeping this secret for a reason that was more personal. Thus, despite Cullen's sense of duty and ethics, he felt strongly that he shouldn't involve anyone else, at least not yet.

And so it was that he found himself with a couple hours of free time one night, and he made his way up to the library. At first he didn't see anyone around, which was strange in itself even considering the late hour, but then Dorian's voice came from a darkened alcove, startling him into emitting a rather undignified squeak of surprise as he jumped.

"Don't think I didn't notice your attention, Commander," Dorian said, stepping out into the low torch light. "While I'm strangely flattered, I have a feeling it's not due to being enamored with my good looks. Not this time, at any rate."

"I--uh, well, yes, I mean, no," Cullen stammered, cheeks flushing as the scent of the mage hit him underneath another overwhelming cloud of perfume.

"What, pray tell, _is_ it then?" Dorian asked, making to cross his arms and only just stopping himself, and not so subtly fumbling for a way to cover the aborted gesture.

"I um, well, there's really no tactful way to say this," Cullen said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he grimaced. "Are you... that is," he pitched his voice quieter and inched closer, then gestured at Dorian's midsection vaguely rather than say it out loud.

Dorian's dark skin didn't really blanch, but his shocked expression was answer enough before it turned to defensive anger. "How did you--blasted nosy southern Templars!" he hissed, glancing around and backing into the alcove again. "I am not going to allow you to blackmail me, so don't even think it," he snarled, magic crackling just beneath his skin.

Cullen took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. "No! Maker, no, I'd never dream of it," he said, somewhat failing to keep his voice suitably quiet. "I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean to pry, or upset you, Dorian, I swear it. I'm just honestly concerned."

"As the Commander of the Inquisition, I suppose?" Dorian said icily. "It couldn't be personal concern, though perhaps I ought to be grateful that you care at all, despite this being none of your fucking business."

Cullen opened his mouth to respond, paused, and then sighed as he ran his hands through his short hair. "Dorian, as an omega to a fellow omega, I'm concerned for you. Not as Commander of the Inquisition, or even as a former Templar," he said, raising his gaze to meet Dorian's squarely.

"Ah, so you're going to tell me you saw this before, yes? That you have _experience_ with omega mages getting _knocked up_?" Dorian did cross his arms then, and the slight curve of the mage's belly became more apparent through the thick fabric of his shirt. "How touching. Did you perhaps come to lecture me about how my magic will become increasingly erratic and harder to control? Because I bloody well know that. I have taken all necessary precautions, and a few more besides."

"I'm sorry, this is coming out all wrong, clearly," Cullen said with another heavy sigh as he turned to grip the wooden railing.

"I haven't set fire to anything _accidentally_ since I was twelve, if you must know, and I don't intend for my _condition_ to change that," Dorian said flatly.

"Dorian, please, I don't even need to know why you feel you must keep this secret," Cullen said, turning to the mage and taking a few cautious steps closer. "Don't tell me anything at all, if you wish, but please let me help?"

Dorian stared at Cullen for a few heartbeats, his expression no longer quite so hostile. "How could you possibly help without knowing any of the juicy details?" he asked, bitterness clear in his tone as he enunciated the last two words. "I'm sure you've already guessed why this is my _secret_ , what with your experience in such matters. You were, after all, clever enough to notice despite my best efforts."

It was Cullen's turn to stare silently at Dorian for a few moments before he spoke. "My experience in these matters is rather personal, actually, in addition to having secondhand experience," he said softly. "I don't presume to compare my experiences to yours, as being with child affects Templar abilities far less."

Dorian blinked in genuine, unguarded surprise and gave Cullen a considering look. "I see. Well then, I... might be amenable to some assistance, provided discretion is kept. As far as I'm aware, you're the only one who's deduced my little secret, and I'd very much like to keep it that way, at least for now."

Cullen managed a wry half smile and nodded. "Understood. I have no particular wish to revisit _my_ past, which is why I see no need to know any of your juicy details, as you put it."

"So glad we have an agreement then. Now, I'm sure you have more pressing matters to attend to, yes?"

Cullen hesitated for a second and then nodded. Murmuring a polite goodbye, he departed at a pace that was just shy of hurried. Dorian watched him go with a pensive frown, and then took the stairs down to Solas' area.

"I assume you heard enough to figure it out, as I understand elven hearing is quite sensitive," Dorian said, leaning against the doorframe as he stared at Solas.

The other mage, to his credit, didn't bother to pretend he just woke up, much less feign any ignorance. "Yes, and I respect your privacy in such matters," Solas said neutrally as he sat up. "Leliana and her spies sleep elsewhere, and as far as I know the birds do not gossip."

"Useful to know." Dorian stared at Solas for another moment before he straightened up and walked forward to sit on the couch. "How long have you known? You hardly seem surprised, after all."

"I sensed it soon after we first met, and while I wondered why you didn't make it known, I assumed you had good reason."

"I know you don't like me much at all, yet you kept my secret." Dorian tilted his head as he slouched on the couch. "Why?"

"You have no malicious intent with concealing your condition, thus it poses no danger to anyone but yourself. Despite the strains it puts on your control of magic, I trust in your ability to manage such fluctuations competently."

Dorian narrowed his eyes at the second half of Solas' reply but let it slide for now. "You're a beta, but do you have _experience_ in these matters? And by that I mean other than seeing it in the Fade."

"Practical experience? No." Solas rose to his feet and moved to his table to rifle through his books and papers. "In my home village, I of course saw omegas in your condition from time to time, and in my travels in _this_ world I have managed to pick up some knowledge of the subject."

"Do elves handle it differently?" Dorian mused aloud.

"Much like humans, elves are not a collective." Solas managed to make the words vaguely condescending without a change in tone of voice or body language.

Dorian hated when he did that. "That's hardly what I meant," he snapped. "Allow me to rephrase, then: just how different is it?"

Solas arched one eyebrow as he gave Dorian one of his insufferably impassive looks. "For me? 'My kind'? But to answer your question, no, the differences between our peoples are not so vast as that. Particular traditions may differ in specifics, but it is the same condition overall. If you wish to know about truly unusual customs, by your standards at any rate, perhaps you could ask Iron Bull."

"I already know more than I wanted to about how Qunari do it, and I have no interest in further inquiry." Dorian shuddered delicately, looking a bit ill at the thought. "Besides which, as a Ben-Hassrath, our large horned friend is a terrible gossip."

Solas evidently located what he was looking for and walked over to Dorian to hand him a small vial. "As elven physiology is not so different than humans, this will be effective."

"At what?" Dorian asked, studying the glass vial with its opaque yellowish liquid. "And you just happened to have this lying about?"

"For the aches and pains your condition may give you, and as such discomforts are not unique to your condition, I have several such droughts lying about."

Dorian blinked twice and then pocketed the vial. "Ah, well, thank you, then."

Solas inclined his head slightly. "I am no healer, but I know of various recipes and remedies should you need them."

"I... appreciate that, truly." Dorian took a moment to collect himself and then stood. "Perhaps I needn't have worried so much after all."

Solas pinned Dorian with a serious look. "I would not presume your motivations, only that you had your reasons."

"Yes, well. I do, at that. Good night." Dorian took pains to leave with as much dignity as he could muster, telling himself he was certainly _not_ retreating to his alcove.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character tags and others will be added as needed, mostly for upcoming chapters.
> 
> Note: This is the chapter that the past rape/non-con tag applies to the most, though the references aren't graphic.

After four months of hiding it, it was disconcerting to say the least that his secret was out to _two_ others in one night. Dorian allowed himself a brief touch of his rounded belly and stared down at it with a surly frown. Rather sooner than he'd like, it would be beyond concealing even with the best of tailors, which Skyhold decidedly lacked. Besides which, as much as he played up 'that eccentric mage from Tevinter' with frequent stylistic alterations of his clothing, he detested baggy robes on principle. He'd have to think up some sort of plausible excuse soon to break the news, not only for the delay but the rest of it as well.

Dorian sighed and rubbed his face wearily, half wishing he'd taken up herbology so he could have 'ended' his little problem as soon as he'd discovered it. However, he had to admit if only to himself that he hadn't wanted to, despite the enormous inconvenience his condition posed, not to mention that _how_ he'd gotten in such a condition was ample enough reason on its own to rid himself of it. If he'd really wished to, he could have easily procured the means well before now, but something had always stopped him.

Cursing his impulsive decision and instincts, Dorian briefly considered asking the dwarf for advice on how to spin a plausible lie, but no, that would entail sharing a bit too much personal information, most likely. That, and dwarves really had so little experience with such things, as they were almost all betas as a rule, a strange quirk of their race much like their disconnection from the Fade. Of course, betas produced children too, but it was rather different for alphas and omegas.

"They all care about you, you know," Cole's voice said suddenly.

Dorian swore colorfully in hissed Tevene as he clutched at his chest and glared at the spirit. "Have I not told you before not to _do that_?"

"Sorry," Cole said, not sounding at all apologetic. "Some know, but they care enough not to tell you. I don't understand."

"You wouldn't, I suppose," Dorian said testily, sinking down into his chair and resting his face in his hands briefly.

"It hurts you, I want to help."

"You're not alone in that, apparently." Dorian sighed and looked properly at Cole. "I assume you knew all along too. Why choose now to come to me?"

"This pain is on the surface now instead of buried beneath other things. Old wounds, but it hurts still."

"That... actually makes more sense than you usually do." Dorian squinted at Cole. "What advice could _you_ possibly give me? Spirits don't have genders, not really."

"Cole, the real Cole, he was... omega? I feel things from people, I don't understand it, but I want to help and I think I can, if you'll let me."

"I really don't need you messing about in my head more than you usually do," Dorian said, then sighed. "Alright, fine, how would you help?" He blamed weariness on why he didn't fight this offer of aid, as unwanted as it was.

"It wasn't your fault, what happened."

Dorian bristled instantly, knowing what Cole knew and feeling nausea hit him with alarming force. "I am _not_ discussing this with you, not now, not ever, nor with anyone else for that matter," he said, fighting down bile with sheer willpower.

Undeterred, Cole persisted. "It was a mistake, _he_ made a mistake."

"You know, discussing this is the very last thing that could possibly be helpful," Dorian gritted out. "Surely you can sense _that_."

Cole paused, and though his expression remained blank he nodded once. "Cullen understands. His old pain is like yours. It's why he came to you."

Dorian's eyes widened for a moment and he sat back, digesting that bit of information. "He... implied as much, I suppose. I had no idea."

"He won't discuss it either, though it haunts him every night. He wakes screaming more often than he doesn't." Cole stared at Dorian with unnerving intensity. "It was when the Blight happened, when the Fereldan Circle was nearly destroyed by demons."

Dorian didn't even need to make a mental calculation. A decade was a long time indeed to be still so haunted by bad memories. "Cole, I rather doubt Cullen will appreciate you telling me this any more than I do when you peer into my head." Dorian grimaced and rubbed his belly absently, although the worst of the nausea had thankfully passed. "I know you mean well, but--"

"He cares for you a lot. It troubles him to see you like this. He wants to help you not be lonely."

"Being lonely is the least of my concerns."

"Needing help isn't shameful, you know. Everyone needs it sometimes."

Dorian managed a rueful smirk. "Well, my tutors did joke that me being possessed by a Pride demon was most unlikely."

Cole blinked, nonplussed. "All demons are bad, but Pride demons are very powerful. And bad."

"That's not what I--oh, never mind." Dorian rubbed his eyes, then stifled a yawn and pushed himself out of his chair.

"You're safe here. You're among friends who care very much. Don't be afraid, it hurts you more."

Dorian flinched and opened his mouth to retort, but Cole had already vanished. Cursing meddling spirits under his breath, he made his way to his room to sleep.

 

When Dorian wandered past Varric's table in the main hall a few days later, he caught the dwarf staring at him with a look that bordered on... concern. He stopped abruptly, gritted his teeth, counted to ten in his head in three languages, then strode over to loom over the dwarf. "Who told you, and why is it that everyone here seems to know my personal, _private_ business?"

Varric held up his hands in a placating gesture. "No one's spread any gossip about you that I've heard, Sparkler. You did a really good job of keeping your little secret, but when someone visits the little omega's room as often as you have lately, people notice."

"Especially in the mornings, yes? Well, fine then, I'm pregnant, and everyone might as well know it from _me_ ," Dorian said loud enough that those nearest the table turned to look at them. "And here I was thinking I'd make a grand occasion of it, send invitations out for the joyous announcement," he quipped bitterly, making a wide gesture with his arms.

Varric looked at Dorian with a serious expression, sighed under his breath, and gestured to the open doors of the hall. "I'd suggest the gardens, but we're likely to have a bit more privacy out there."

"And what makes everyone so sure I wish to discuss it?" Dorian snapped, defensively crossing his arms.

"I was actually going to talk about more practical things, like how you want to deal with the baby when it arrives," Varric said smoothly. "Maybe even name choices, if you need suggestions."

While Dorian had done a lot of thinking in the past few months, he'd avoided thinking quite so far ahead. "That is none of your business," he said flatly.

Varric shrugged. "Suit yourself, Sparkler. The offer's open indefinitely."

Dorian had in fact planned to wander the courtyards, albeit alone, but he changed his mind and headed straight for Cullen's rooms without consciously deciding to do so. Pausing outside the door to the tower he hoped the ex-Templar resided in -- it was difficult to tell when they all looked alike to him -- he knocked. Hearing a muffled 'come in' he opened the door, slipped inside, and shut it behind him. A quick glance around using his eyes and a spell confirmed that Cullen was alone, and also seemed surprised to see Dorian.

"Did everyone try to be nosy and ever so _helpful_ for you?" Dorian blurted out, then felt a twinge of regret at the pain that flickered across Cullen's face. "I mean--oh nevermind, that was rude of me. We'd agreed to not pry into each others' affairs."

"No, I was alone," Cullen said softly, setting down the papers he had been holding and staring down at them with an unfocused gaze.

Dorian froze, and then slowly approached. "I'm... sorry," he said inadequately.

Cullen seemed to shake himself back to the present and smiled without humor as he met Dorian's eyes. "No, no, it's alright. It was a long time ago."

"For what it's worth, I'm also sorry for how I acted last night. It was unworthy of me."

"You had every reason to," Cullen said, managing not to sound pitying at all. "There are no hard feelings here, Dorian. I... understand, as I've said, how difficult this can be." Cullen studied the hesitation and curiosity in Dorian's expression for a few moments, then seemed to come to a decision as he straightened to his full height. "I... miscarried, so I'm afraid my experience in anything past the stage you're currently at is secondhand." He smiled ruefully and held up a hand. "Please, don't apologize again. It's unnerving, and there's no need."

Dorian had just enough tact to not reveal any indication he knew more details than that, though he couldn't remember who had told him. Maybe he'd read it in a book? Heavens no, that didn't sound right at all. "Thank you... for telling me," he said instead, carefully perching on the edge of Cullen's desk. They shared contemplative silence for a bit before Dorian spoke again. "This, for me, is... unwanted. Well, no, more like I _could_ have ended it, but for some stupid reason I will surely regret, I didn't do the sensible thing. Turns out I'm terrible at it, doing what's sensible." He winced, more because he couldn't keep his voice from cracking on the last word than because of what he'd said.

Cullen nodded slowly, not needing to say out loud that he knew how Dorian felt.

"I thought about it, you know, obsessively. Like it was the only thing I _could_ think about. And despite that I had a long list of both practical and emotional reasons to abort," he paused to swallow hard, that word tasting painfully sour, "I didn't, couldn't." He blinked several times, wondering why he felt like pouring it all out now, but Cullen seemed to be patiently listening. "Despite this entire fucking situation being unwanted, I couldn't very well ruin the one and only chance my parents had of having me carry on the Pavus name, now could I?" Dorian was decidedly _not_ crying, it was just pollen or something. Wiping his eyes furiously, he sniffled and turned away, though he didn't get up.

Cullen blinked in surprise, then hesitantly stepped around his desk and reached out to rest a hand on Dorian's right shoulder. Feeling the mage tense at his touch, he hurriedly quipped, "I know, you're not usually this emotional and you don't need me, but I'm here anyway, and I won't tell a soul, I swear by the Maker."

Dorian let go then, despite the shame burning his soul for doing so. The children of magisters did not cry, not even if omega, and here he was sobbing into an ex-Templar's feathered armor. It was more humiliating than discovering that what felt like half of Skyhold knew his dirty secret and hadn't thought it prudent to inform him. Never mind that he would have refused help then as he had the previous night, if not in an even more theatrical fashion. His reasoning didn't have to make sense, after all, as he was just a silly, emotional omega made even worse by his damned _condition_. But it felt blessedly wonderful to be comforted, and to finally let out all his pent up emotions.

Cullen held Dorian silently, not too tight or too loose, and let him cry it out for as long as he needed. When the mage's tears subsided some time later, he rubbed Dorian's back in soothing circles and wished that he hadn't worn his usual armor, though at least his gauntlets were off.

"I'm sure you'll tell me it's not my fault," Dorian said, his voice mostly back to normal as he dried his face on his cape. "There's no need, as you say, because I know that. But not really, you see, because it _is_ my fault." He took a deep breath that wasn't entirely steady, then let it out in a heavy sigh. "I enjoy the company of omegas, and you know how _unlikely_ it is for us to produce heirs that way. We need alphas, or at least betas, to _help_ with that part," he said bitterly, disgust clear in his tone. "And well, I have no interest in either. None at all, in fact, which makes it rather difficult to do my duty to provide grandchildren, as you can imagine."

Cullen swallowed hard, paling as what Dorian said and didn't say sunk in.

"So, the sordid tale of how I came to be like this, on this mad quest to save the world, in summary: my dear father, despite being omega himself, thought it in his best interests to show me that I just needed a good alpha rutting to come to my senses. After all, everyone knows an omega can't be into their _own sex_ when in heat." Dorian laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Turns out he was wrong about that, so I left and at some point along the way to Redcliffe, I discovered I had a delightful souvenir of my last heat to remember it by. And, me being a stupid omega, I decided to keep it, because Maker knows I won't ever get another chance at experiencing the joy of bringing life into this world. Pity about the less than romantic conception and all, but that's the way it is."

Cullen was quiet for a few long moments, at a loss for words. "I... had suspected something similar, in truth," he murmured at last, loosening his hold on the mage enough so that Dorian could sit up. "Whether or not you believe it, it really isn't your fault. There's no excuse in the world that could justify what you endured."

"I shall take that in the spirit it's intended, Commander," Dorian said flatly, not looking up from his study of his hands in his lap.

"Cullen. Please--call me Cullen."

"As you wish, Cullen." Dorian glanced up then, his expression unreadable. "Now that I've gone and made such a fool of myself, you must think--"

"Do me the additional courtesy of not assuming you know my thoughts," Cullen said with a bit more force than necessary, then gentled his tone. "Were I in your place, I'm honestly not sure what I'd have done, but it takes an enormous amount of strength, of character and spirit, to survive such an experience, and if anything, I think _more_ of you now, not less." He shifted his hands to rest on Dorian's shoulders, then raised one hesitantly to brush his fingers across one tear-stained cheek. "You're far braver than I."

Dorian blinked in genuine surprise. "Brave? Me?"

"Yes." Cullen stroked his thumb over Dorian's cheekbone before withdrawing and taking a step back. It would hardly be appropriate to confess any deeper feelings right then, after all. Much less allow his impulses to get the better of his good sense. He'd wanted, desperately, to kiss Dorian then. And that would have ended worse than the night before had, surely.

"If you're thinking to confess anything in equal measure, please don't. I detest confessions," Dorian said, though his tone lacked its usual snarky bite as he studied Cullen with a contemplative look. "Though I must admit that you're the last person I expected to bare my soul to, but nonetheless it is appreciated that you listened."

"Confessions are hardly in my former job description, nor my present one, giving or receiving," Cullen replied with a wry smile. "However, I am here should you need me, Dorian, for anything."

"Yes, well, that's my cue to get going then." Dorian stood, adjusted his clothing and then patted his belly. "I find myself hungry again despite eating a mere two hours ago. Eating for two and all. Should you care to join me for a meal, I would hardly mind the company."

Before Cullen could formulate a sufficient response to that, Dorian was gone in a swirl of cape and lingering scent. He stared through the open doorway, watching the way the mage strutted across the battlements and then paused to glance around as if to get his bearings before continuing on, somewhat less certain of where the walkway led to. Cullen smirked ruefully, knowing that Skyhold was large enough to be a maze until one got used to which doors led where. He still got turned around and confused every now and then, and it wasn't until he'd memorized the placement of distinctive features from every level and direction that he stopped getting lost at least once a day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes in timeline/order of events are my own, so just assume it was deliberate on my part (and not me getting confused about what happened when or forgetting things :P).

Cullen found Dorian in his usual alcove the next afternoon, holding a letter and looking... rather sad. "Is something the matter?" he asked, stepping close.

"Oh, nothing really." Dorian waved the letter vaguely and folded it back up. "The Inquisitor stopped by earlier, and I told her a few things about my childhood and other inconsequential things of that sort."

"Oh?" Cullen relaxed his stance and crossed his arms, tilting his head patiently.

"This letter," Dorian paused to hold it up, "is from Felix. Turns out he headed back to Minrathous to give the Inquisition a glowing review, and then he... died."

"Magister Alexius' son," Cullen said softly, understanding. "I'm sorry for your loss. Was he..."

"Were he and I together? Hah, no, though that would have been a delightful scandal, should word have gotten out. No, I respected Alexius too much to tarnish his only son's reputation that way." Dorian grimaced and turned away to stare out the window. "I... think I can understand better now, why Alexius was such a mother hen to Felix," he murmured, one hand splaying over his belly. "He was a good father, despite how it all ended."

"Hoping to follow his example, if only to a point?" Cullen blurted out, and at Dorian's sharp look he had the grace to look sheepish. "I mean--sorry, that came out wrong."

"Oh, it's quite alright. I'm getting used to your way with words," Dorian quipped, leaning against a bookcase casually. "The Inquisitor asked the same thing about Felix, actually. Am I developing a reputation here already for trying to unduly influence any omega that crosses my path?"

Cullen arched an eyebrow. "We don't have quite the same reactions to... er, that sort of thing, here, but it's not exactly common for us to be such."

"'We'?"

Cullen flushed slightly. "I do not share those prejudiced views on such matters, for what it's worth, but the Templars... do not take kindly to an omega among their ranks all the same. Most of them are alphas and betas, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"And what of omegas who only like their own kind? It's not quite the same thing as alphas and betas assuming we're incompetent, flighty, and stupidly salivating for their attentions."

Cullen grimaced and shrugged, floundering a bit. "Well, as I said, there aren't many of us--them, who like our own sexes, or all three, or any of that."

Dorian smirked knowingly. "And which category do you fall into, Cullen, if I may ask?"

"I, well, that is... I've never really--" Cullen coughed uncomfortably. "I've never had the opportunity to pursue anything of note."

"Oh?" Dorian mimicked Cullen's earlier pose. "Do tell."

"There's nothing to tell, really," Cullen said, but under Dorian's expectant look he sighed after a moment and relented. "There was a mage, back in Ferelden's Circle that I... briefly took an interest in, but nothing came of it. Just as well, really, as she had no time for such things, what with saving Ferelden from the Fifth Blight and all."

Dorian's eyes widened in surprise. "The Hero of Ferelden? You had a crush on her, of all people?"

Cullen chuckled and nodded slowly. "She was an omega, and from what I hear, Leliana got to know her quite well during their adventures."

"So you _do_ gossip, how quaint. I must remember to ask our dear spymaster for more details, provided she doesn't skin me alive for being nosy." Dorian gave Cullen a pointed look at that, though his lips quirked up in a faint smile. "Anyone else?"

Cullen thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Though you might hear stories of Templars and mages getting together, for better or worse, I didn't indulge in those things, either during my time as a Templar or after."

"Surely you're not celibate," Dorian said, just barely catching himself from adding 'virgin' to that. He well knew Cullen wasn't _that_ , given his past. "I didn't think those rumors of southern Templars were true."

Cullen blushed to the roots of his hair. "I don't really think that's an appropriate topic of conversation."

"Not while sober, I suppose." Dorian flashed an unrepentant grin. "You know, your skin has such a delightfully revealing quality to it."

"In what way, exactly?" Cullen gritted out, crossing his arms.

"It changes colors, of course, in ways I find amusing given the context."

"And yours doesn't?"

"Not without magic, no, not really to the same extent. I did get turned green once, due to a prank that went wrong when I was young. Thankfully it was temporary, but Felix didn't let me live it down for years."

Cullen couldn't help but chuckle at that. "What about you? Since we're trading stories."

Dorian pulled a face and sighed a bit melodramatically. "Oh, very well. It's only fair, I suppose." He paused to think, stroking his chin as he stared at a spot on the ceiling. "A few minor dalliances in my youth, all kept hush hush and so discreet I never heard the names of a few." He shrugged and lowered himself into his armchair. "That's the way it is in Tevinter for those like me, unless we have slaves to use for such purposes," he said with a grimace of distaste. "Think what you will of my countrymen, but it goes against my principles to take advantage of slaves in such a way."

Cullen shifted uncomfortably and nodded. "That's somewhat reassuring to hear. About your principles, I mean."

"What, that I have any?" Dorian asked, smirking slightly.

Cullen blinked and winced, belatedly realizing the implications. "No, just that slavery isn't a thing here, but it's good to know you understand the--well, I'd better stop talking before I put my foot in it, again."

"What were the Circles here, then, if not slavery in all but name?" Dorian countered, tilting his head curiously. "But never mind that, a debate about semantics and philosophy is rather dry and boring, don't you think? In any case, my people are hardly as progressive as I'd like, in many ways, but not all of us are known for the excesses of the worst of us."

"If the offer is still open for a meal, I have the rest of the afternoon free," Cullen said abruptly.

Dorian smiled and pushed himself to his feet. "By all means, lead the way. I'm getting used to the fact I'm nearly always hungry of late."

 

"So, tell me, I understand that your Divine is always an omega, yes?" Dorian asked, picking at the last scraps of his food.

"Yes, and I've heard yours is always an alpha, and a mage at that. It seems strange, the differences between our Chantries."

"Not really, if you think of either one as wanting to do the exact opposite of the other to set themselves apart," Dorian mused with a shrug. "'Differences in philosophy' generally amounts to being contrary for the sake of it, after all."

Cullen raised one eyebrow slightly. "Perhaps, though I'd disagree somewhat. You still believe in Andraste, that she was the omega mate of the Maker."

"Yes, though we believe she was a mage, to fit with our interpretations of how magic serves people." Dorian smirked at that. "Convenient, isn't it, that we think ruling over them is what serves them best. But then it's better than being locked up just for having the same gifts from the Maker that Andraste had."

Cullen gave Dorian an impassive look. "I see your point," he said evenly, not about to be baited into a religious debate. "I know you and Madame Vivienne hardly share the same views on Circles and their use."

"Not entirely oppositional views, but though we have our different opinions here and there, I do concede her points on some of it," Dorian said with a casual shrug. "For example, I think that your mage rebellion could lead to unfortunately similar consequences that my own country has experienced firsthand. But then that's what power does, whether one is a mage or not."

Cullen blinked in surprise. "I suppose that's true. The Inquisitor has more faith than I that our mages ought to be allowed to prove themselves, but I think the Circles need reform at the very least."

Dorian made a noncommittal sound and took a sip of water. "I meant to ask earlier, your only notable crush was an omega, yes? Does that mean you're like me in yet another way?"

Cullen shifted in his seat. "I... well, I don't know. I don't find alphas or betas repellant or anything, just haven't had the opportunity to get to know any enough to like them in more than a platonic fashion."

Dorian sat back and gave Cullen a thoughtful look. "So, for you, getting to know someone better leads to liking them as more than just friends, is that it?"

"Not all the time, no. More like hardly ever, in fact." Cullen shrugged a bit uncomfortably.

"Or 'just once,' to be precise, yes?" Dorian smiled when Cullen nodded. "Most curious, but it makes sense. So you knew the Hero of Ferelden enough to grow to like her?"

"Must we discuss something that happened so long ago?" Cullen grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"What? I just want to get to know you, Cullen," Dorian said, all innocence.

"Oh, very well. I didn't know her _that_ well, but I was present when she arrived at the Circle, and at her Harrowing, and she was always so brave, never flinching from duty and principles." Cullen shrugged, pushing his food around on his plate with his knife. "She never let being an omega stop her from anything, but she didn't use her 'omega wiles' to get where she did, despite how everyone always assumes that of us when we attain any rank or position of note through our own efforts."

"So you admired her, even before she became the Hero of Ferelden."

"Yes, and though it hardly changed anything for omegas or mages that she was both, it's... something meaningful for us anyway."

"To have a Hero who was both an omega and a mage, yes, I can see how that inspires," Dorian murmured, tapping his chin. "Even in Tevinter, it's not easy being omega regardless of being a mage. My parents had hoped for their child to become Archon, but then I was born both omega and entirely uninterested in settling down with a proper mate. And because my parents despised each other far too much to try again with a second child, they tried to force me to at least produce an heir who could be what they wanted." He smiled bitterly and rested one hand on his belly. "A part of me hopes, spitefully perhaps, that my child turns out like me instead."

Cullen impulsively reached out to cover Dorian's other hand with his own. "I mean it in the best way possible that I'm not sure the world can handle two of you," he quipped, hoping to lighten the mood.

Dorian laughed obligingly. "Yes, quite. No one can be as attractive and stylish as me, after all. I do so hate competition."

Cullen smiled faintly and rolled his eyes, then noticed he hadn't yet moved his hand from Dorian's. He started to withdraw it, but the mage grabbed it instead and held on, an intense look in his eyes. "I... well," Cullen fumbled, flustered.

"You're adorable, you know? Just in case you were wondering. I find, much to my surprise, that I quite enjoy spending time with you, and I hope you feel the same. It would be a pity if not."

Cullen blinked a few times, moving his mouth much like a fish out of water.

"What, cat got your tongue?" Dorian smirked as he raised their joined hands. "You're not used to being pursued, are you? Wait, no, stupid question, of course not." He leaned forward and shifted his grip so that their fingers entwined. "Would you like me to?"

Cullen remained speechless for a couple more heartbeats before he managed to finally snap out of it. "I... hadn't thought it would be appropriate, given--"

"Do I have to spell it out, then?" Dorian asked, feigning annoyance.

"No, that won't be necessary," Cullen murmured, then impulsively leaned forward to kiss Dorian. However, just before their lips met, someone interrupted.

"Commander!" Leliana called out, hurrying forward only to halt abruptly at Cullen's surly glare at her. She glanced at Dorian, at their still joined hands, then back to Cullen and her face cleared as she figured it out. "Ah, I didn't mean to interrupt. My apologies," she said with a slight bow.

Cullen sighed and sat back slightly with an apologetic look to Dorian. "Go on then. If you're delivering this news personally it must be important," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"The Inquisitor is about to judge Magister Alexius in the throne room," Leliana said, giving Dorian another glance.

"Who was going to inform _me_ of this?" Dorian asked, the familiar tone of irritation back in his voice. "But anyway, it's about time. He's been in the dungeon for weeks now, hasn't he? And with _that_ mood killer, I think I shall take my leave," he said, giving Cullen's hand a reassuring squeeze before he withdrew and stood. "I'll be in the library if anyone needs me."

Cullen watched him go, and then sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

"I am glad you've found someone, Commander," Leliana said softly, a small smile on her lips.

"Don't be so hasty, I have plenty of time to bungle it up in a spectacular fashion," Cullen murmured with a grimace. "Oh, and while you're here, if he asks you about the Hero of Ferelden, I'd appreciate it if you don't skewer him for being nosy."

"Why would I--oh, that must have come up because of your own interest in her before she left the Circle."

Cullen made a grunt of assent. "He pestered that tale out of me, but I don't know her as well as you do, and he's curious."

"And he's not satisfied with the many books about her, despite reading them all twice." Leliana nodded to herself with a knowing smile. "Very well, I shall answer his questions if he asks."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left the Warden vague, aside from the being-a-mage part, so feel free to picture either Amell or Surana as it suits you. Cookies for spotting the lampshade hanging.

"Cullen told me you might come by," Leliana said as she offered Dorian a seat, then leaned against her desk.

"Did he now? Well, I know he wasn't serious about the Warden, but I can't pass up the opportunity to learn the sorts of things that wouldn't be put in any official accounts."

Leliana laughed softly. "If you wish for intimate information from me, you will be disappointed."

"Ah, a former bard who _doesn't_ kiss and tell, is that how it's going to be? I suppose that's how it usually works, unless I pay you sufficiently, right?" Dorian quipped, lacing his hands together over his belly as he slouched in the chair. "But no, I'm really more intrigued because despite Tevinter having many tales of heroes who come from humble means and other sorts of the downtrodden and disadvantaged becoming important figures, mage and non-mage, we don't have more than a handful at best, of obscure tales, where said hero likes their own sex. And all but _one_ of those are about alphas or beta men who like beta men, which, while interesting, aren't all that relatable for me."

Leliana tilted her head toward Dorian with a contemplative look, then smiled faintly. "I understand," she said, and then spent the next hour or so answering Dorian's many questions about the Warden.

"Thank you, Leliana, that was most... inspirational, really," Dorian said, getting to his feet. "She sounds like a wonderful partner." He glanced to the small alcove a few paces away and then approached it, noticing a small portrait of fine quality among the other mementos. "Is that her, then?" he asked, bending carefully for a closer look.

"Yes, I had it commissioned a few months after she killed the Archdemon," Leliana said with a fond smile.

"I hope you two can find the time to grow old together after all this is done," Dorian said suddenly, flashing a slightly rueful smile to Leliana. "Now, before I utterly ruin my reputation for being spoiled and snooty with such sappy emotions, I have a certain Commander to find and corner into finishing what you interrupted," he added with a playfully formal bow and smile.

"He does need to be distracted on occasion," Leliana replied with an impish smirk.

"Oh, I promise you I'll do far more than _that_ , don't worry," Dorian quipped as he descended the stairs with a wave.

 

Dorian located Cullen in the Commander's usual spot, and after locking all three doors to the tower, he approached Cullen's desk rather like a cat stalking prey. "Right back to work, is it? That won't do at all," he said, tsking as he circled around the desk.

"I do have to finish this, but you are most welcome to provide a distraction," Cullen murmured, eyeing Dorian with a mixture of anticipation and resignation as he set his paperwork aside.

"Mmm, shall I help you clear the desk, then? This tower is a bit drafty even down here, but far be it for me to be prudish about not having a proper bed."

Cullen blinked and blushed slightly, glanced to the tall ladder leading up to his bedroom and then back to Dorian, his gaze lingering on the mage's belly. "Are you sure--"

Dorian made an exasperated sound and quickly kissed Cullen, though he managed to miscalculate a bit and connected with more force than he'd intended. Rubbing his nose as he leaned back, he gave Cullen a rueful grin. "Well, that could have been better, but also worse," he quipped. "To answer your question, I'm quite sure. Though if you're worried that I might be affected in unpleasant ways that have nothing to do with your skills, well, we can take it slow and see how it goes, yes?"

Cullen's serious look shifted into a half smile as he nodded, and then leaned in to kiss Dorian properly. "Agreed. It's... been rather a long time for me, but I hope my skills aren't too rusty."

It occurred to Dorian then that he likely was in fact dealing with a near-total virgin, if Cullen hadn't left out anything like a quickie or few in his summary of past intimacy, and he didn't seem the type for that. In fact, it was very possible that Cullen's _only_ experience had been... rather less than pleasant, to say the least. Dorian sat back on the edge of the desk and pulled Cullen close, studying the other man intently for a few moments. "Actually, I have been dreadfully selfish, haven't I? Are _you_ as interested as I am in pursuing more, shall we say, amorous delights with me?"

Cullen smirked slowly. "So do you often enjoy yourself? Perhaps with a mirror, to better watch your own show?" he teased, chuckling at Dorian's expression of surprise shifted to mock annoyance.

"I do like to use mirrors, actually, though if _you_ want a show I'll have to come up with something suitable you could give me in return."

Cullen made a sound of interest as he nudged Dorian's knees apart and stepped between them. "I do enjoy your company, Dorian, and I would definitely like being more than just friends with you."

"So glad we're agreed, then."

 

"You know, Dagna also met the Warden," Cullen said as he stared up at the ceiling of Dorian's room, his hands laced behind his head as he lay on the bed.

"She's next on my list to interrogate, yes. Although Cassandra has warned me against encouraging her with new ways to explode things after that last accident in the forge, and she refuses to believe I had nothing to do with it. I swear, since she found out my affinity for fire spells, she thinks all accidents relating to that element are somehow my doing. I've never even set foot in the kitchens, so if anything goes wrong again _there_ , it's most likely Sera's doing if anyone's."

Cullen laughed for a few moments and shook his head. "This isn't about my past crush on the Warden anymore, is it?"

"No," Dorian said with a smile as he propped himself up on one elbow and admired the view of Cullen stretched out beside him, appreciating that he was finally out of his armor and also everything else. "I must admit that I wish I could understand dwarves better. Living underground with all that stone above you, I get a bit queasy at the thought."

"Were we in the great hall at present, that statement would be more amusing," Cullen murmured with a grin.

Dorian gave him a scowl and poked him in the ribs for good measure. "That's hardly the same thing. And if we were in the great hall as we are now, I at least would blind everyone with my perfect physique--" he paused to frown down at his belly, "Well, amend that to after I get it back, rather."

Cullen chuckled and shifted onto his side. "I think you're perfect as you are."

"Flattery... will get you everywhere, actually." Dorian made an exaggerated preening gesture. "I take it you've developed a taste for fat omegas, then?"

"For you, yes," Cullen murmured. "I should like to have more than a taste, however."

"Oh, do keep going."

"I'm sure to muck it up somehow if I start trying to write you poetry, however much it's laced with flattery."

"Ah, but your fumbling attempts are endearing, amatus. Besides, even if the words come out wrong, I can recognize the intent behind them."

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "My talent for metaphor is rather nonexistent."

"Unless you see fit to compare me to a Mabari hound, I doubt you could manage to mess it up _too_ badly."

"Don't be so sure about that," Cullen murmured, leaning close to steal a kiss.

 

Over the next week or so, things settled into a sort of normal routine. Dorian adapted to the change in the stares he usually got, which previously were a mix of hostile and curious with a few lustful looks, to the ones of a different sort of curiosity and also surprisingly less open maliciousness. The lack of lustful looks bruised his ego a bit, especially when he stopped hiding his growing midsection and decided to flaunt it, but seeing the way Cullen's face lit up every time they saw each other made up for it. Besides, while there had been no sappy declarations of commitment between them, Dorian had discovered that Cullen's opinion of him (and perhaps the Inquisitor's as well) was all that mattered.

However, things weren't entirely perfect, even aside from having a legitimate excuse to not get dragged along on romps through deserts and swamps and Maker knew where else. He'd truly hated having to buy new clothes every week (a fact that would likely shock everyone, no doubt) due to suspiciously difficult to remove stains and tearing in places that he'd rather not mention. Losing favorite coats and other articles of clothing to those infernal swamps really made him cranky, as finding suitable replacements in the arse-end of nowhere was impossible.

And so, while he was grateful to be left behind to his own devices that spared his clothing from ruin, that led to other complications. Such as the time when he and Cullen had been playfully fooling around and he'd accidentally zapped the ex-Templar enough to burn him slightly. Alternately cursing himself in muttered Tevene and doing a fair bit of fussing in the language Cullen understood, as well as apologizing profusely in both, he did what he could to heal the burn.

"Amatus, why didn't you stop me? You know, with your southern Templar abilities," Dorian said, his tone somewhat less agitated now that he'd tended to Cullen's injury.

"Well, first off, I'm not taking lyrium anymore, and secondly, we were both equally surprised," Cullen said, making a rueful face. "Thirdly--"

"Not taking--are you _mad_?" Dorian interrupted, blinking at Cullen with an exaggerated look of concern. "While I'm unfamiliar with your sort of Templar in the practical sense, I do know you can't just _quit_ taking it. And why, pray tell, did you not see fit to inform me of this until now? Is this why your nightmares--"

Cullen shut up the stream of words effectively with a hard kiss. When he was sure Dorian had been sufficiently distracted and calmed down, he leaned back and cupped the mage's face in his callused hands. "The Inquisitor shares your concerns about withdrawal and its more detrimental effects. I am... considering the merits of her advice. As for why I didn't tell you, I didn't tell her either until I had to, and I have appointed Cassandra to watch me for... impaired judgment during War Council meetings and such."

"Even I know it can be rather more serious than merely 'impaired judgment,' amatus." Dorian stared at Cullen with a somber look and sighed. "I think I can figure out your reasoning, and I agree in principle because I can imagine how much it means to you if you're putting yourself at so much risk to quit, but nonetheless, amatus, your timing _is_ rather terrible."

Cullen sighed heavily and rubbed his face. "I know, and for that reason, in addition to having no less than three people I trust telling me it's a bad idea out of concern for me, I might as well wait until all this is over to make a proper attempt to quit."

Dorian lay his hands on Cullen's shoulders. "Amatus, I am here for you as you have been for me, and I will be there for you when all this is over, if you'll have me." He blinked slowly and pulled back a bit to shift uncomfortably against the mound of pillows supporting him. "And I don't make such promises lightly, or ever really if we're to be technical, so don't ruin the moment with protestations if you please."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Cullen murmured with a half smile, gazing at Dorian with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, and tinged with a hint of amazement.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads-up, updates may be a bit delayed from here on.

The next day, Dorian was surprised when he could sense immediately that something was different about Cullen. In addition to a new smell mingling with Cullen's natural scent, there was a sort of... _buzz_ to his presence that hadn't been there before. Well, more like a hum, perhaps, but in any case he knew without having to be told that Cullen had begun taking lyrium again, and by his expression he knew that Dorian knew and wasn't happy about it. Well, wasn't happy about taking lyrium again, to be precise.

Due to the new experience of it all, Dorian found himself distracted by Cullen for another reason, as if there was an itch just beneath his skin every time they brushed up against each other or touched skin to skin. "Amatus, I don't mean to be insensitive," he began, pausing to take in Cullen's expression of fond exasperation and expectant look. "Can you... cancel out magic now? Is it a skill you can lose without practice that you'd have to relearn?"

"Why? Are you wishing to experience it?" Cullen asked, his brow furrowed as if he wasn't sure he understood right. "But no, it's an ability we learn the basics and theory of before we actually begin taking lyrium, which then allows us to actually direct our abilities effectively. It's not something we really forget how to do, though my reflexes won't be as quick as they were before until I get used to lyrium again."

"I, well, I admit I am curious how it feels," Dorian said slowly. "Does it hurt?"

"Not as far as I'm aware, though mages don't seem to _enjoy_ it. Then again, that could be more because they're usually actively hostile at the time."

Dorian was quiet for a few moments, contemplating. "I'd like to see how it feels, if you'd oblige me," he said at length, giving Cullen a serious look. "Despite my precautions and pride in my self-control, I'm no longer certain I can control myself at all times anymore, and I don't wish to hurt you, any more than I have."

Cullen nodded with a solemn sort of seriousness that almost worried Dorian, and then shifted to face him properly. "If you're sure, ready a minor spell."

A bit nervous suddenly, Dorian took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then summoned fire to his hands as he held them up in front of him. He watched as Cullen focused on his face and concentrated, then that _hum_ snapped out and through him almost like a whip, and the following sensation was difficult to put into words. Saying it felt like being suddenly suffocated in a blanket didn't quite fit, nor was a drowning in water metaphor apt. The closest Dorian could come up with as he stared a bit dazedly at his now-fireless hands was... a disconnection from the familiar to such an extent that it left him floundering like a newborn babe.

"That is... most curious, and quite unsettling," Dorian said softly, frowning and shaking out his hands as if that could rid them of whatever was inhibiting his ability to summon his magic. "It's like... a sensation of reliving how I was before my magic manifested, I suppose," he mused, glancing at Cullen. "Which is, I'd wager, how it must feel for non-mages every day, to have no sensation of magic or awareness of it drawing you to use it. But no, it doesn't hurt, it's just... uncomfortable."

Cullen quirked a half smile. "I can see how being suddenly normal for all intents and purposes, however temporary it is, might be disconcerting."

" _Your_ 'normal' is rather the opposite of mine," Dorian said, bristling ever so slightly. "While Soporati and non-mage slaves probably outnumber mages in Tevinter if we bothered to do a proper count, our 'normal' is being a mage."

"Ah, sorry, poor choice of words," Cullen murmured with a wince. "There are different ways to cancel out magic, depending on the situation. What you felt is the mildest form, really, just a simple dispel that prevents you from casting for a limited time after."

"I'd like for us to practice this together," Dorian said suddenly. "I want your reflexes back to your peak, and I am more than willing to, shall we say, take one for the team so that you can stop any mage, not just myself, from hurting anyone immediately if needed."

Cullen gazed at Dorian seriously. "You're really so worried you'll hurt me?"

Dorian sighed with exasperation and gestured expansively with his hands. " _Yes_ , as I am earning that amusing nickname the dwarf gave me in ways I don't find amusing in the least. That, and I don't know if you've had the opportunity to notice, but I could, if pressed, burn down a good portion of Skyhold with a mere thought if I had a mind to," he said, pitching his voice lower for the second half of that statement. "I am not boasting when I say I am a powerful mage, amatus, merely being honest. So, while I am primarily concerned about hurting _you_ , I am also aware of the potential danger I pose to far more people in my condition, if I am sufficiently... _emotional_ enough to lose control."

Seeming to realize just what Dorian meant in all possible interpretations, Cullen nodded solemnly and clasped Dorian's hands between his own. "I will do all I can to ensure your safety, and the safety of others as well." Massaging Dorian's hands gently, Cullen considered his next words carefully. "You're... unused to not being in control of your magic, and you don't like the thought of having to depend on anyone, much less subject yourself to my abilities."

Dorian hesitated and then nodded slowly. "Very perceptive, amatus. It's a little too close for comfort to imagining what my life would have been like had I been born here. I can't imagine, and really don't wish to, what it's like to be watched all the time by people who can deprive me of an inherent part of myself, even temporarily, or worse." He shuddered a bit and pulled Cullen closer. "But, I trust you, or I wouldn't have asked."

"I'm glad you trust me that much, and that I can help in this small way," Cullen said, leaning close to share a kiss that soon deepened.

 

It was a bit awkward, Dorian reflected somewhat belatedly, to be in full view of anyone and everyone in the upper courtyard as he and Cullen practiced their reflexes and control. Still, the spectators and passerby all remained mostly out of immediate range, and the slight distractions they provided were actually useful if a bit riskier than he'd have liked. He alternated between launching lightning and fire spells at Cullen, all of varying force and at random moments, and thus far Cullen had countered each one before it struck.

"This is hardly the way I imagined practicing to learn your tells in Wicked Grace, but I'm sure it will come in handy in more than one way," Cullen quipped after nullifying yet another spell.

"Still sore about losing, are you? Be grateful I let you borrow my cloak once you were halfway to my room," Dorian retorted with a grin.

"You could have done so sooner," Cullen shot back.

"What, and miss out on the lovely view? Heavens, no."

"You see that 'view' every morning and night," Cullen blurted, then remembered they had an audience and blushed to the roots of his hair. Those who heard had the decency to cover their mouths to hide smirks.

Dorian laughed. "And other times of day as well, it's true, but that hardly makes me appreciate it less."

"Ugh, can't you two practice somewhere else?" Sera asked, wrinkling her nose and giving Dorian a disgusted, wary look.

"I'm afraid not, as indoors is out of the question, and the garden is rather too idyllic," Dorian said mildly. "You, however, could easily take yourself elsewhere, just in case I decide to miss."

Sera glared at Dorian, then rounded on Cullen. "Isn't it your job to leash them?"

"Not anymore it isn't, and were I you, I'd take Dorian's advice and absent yourself," Cullen replied civilly enough, though his sour expression didn't quite match his tone.

"Ugh, poncy git can't just say 'leave,' can you," Sera muttered, shaking her head as she stomped off in the direction of the tavern.

"Insufferable little..." Dorian muttered, then cleared his throat. "Care for a game of chess? I'd rather like to get off my feet for a while."

Cullen smirked as he nodded. "There are other ways I could get you off your feet, you know."

"My dear Commander! How suggestive you are, and while entirely sober no less," Dorian said, feigning shock and horror.

 

Three games later, Dorian conceded defeat on the last with a playful sulk. "Don't you dare gloat, you'll be unbearable," he muttered, sitting back with a dramatic sigh.

"If it makes you feel any better, the Inquisitor has beaten me every time we've played," Cullen said mildly, smirking. "Without cheating, even."

"Speaking of her," Dorian said as he glanced toward some movement in his peripheral vision and noticed the Inquisitor approaching their table.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said awkwardly as she glanced from Dorian to Cullen. "When you're available, Dorian, I'd like you to come along with me to Redcliffe, as there's some unfinished business to attend to. It shouldn't take long."

"Very well," Dorian replied, curiosity piqued even as his intuition prickled with foreboding. "Let me just get changed, then, and I'll meet you at the gate."

Walking to his room beside Cullen, Dorian stroked his moustache contemplatively. "Bit odd after the last few weeks of 'letting' me rest, she's got some errand to run and needs me to come along."

"Any idea what it could be about?" Cullen asked as he opened the door to Dorian's room.

"None at all, amatus, as the Redcliffe mages are all here now and all that related business was over and done with a month ago at least, but I'll be sure to tell you all about it when I return."

"Perhaps she's found new information about Alexius? Or a contact with Venatori ties?" Cullen mused aloud as he helped Dorian into a fresh outfit.

"The latter is likeliest, though it seems a bit of a fuss to go all the way there." Dorian smoothed down his shirt and its functional if also decorative shoulder straps, admired himself in the mirror for a moment, then turned to give Cullen a chaste kiss. "I'll be back before dinner, amatus," he quipped with a flash of a grin.

"I shall be ready with something suitable prepared," Cullen replied dryly, then walked Dorian to Skyhold's main gate.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, further updates may take a few days longer, but the fic is almost done.

Though Cullen had plenty of time to mull over all possible outcomes, seeing Dorian return several hours later almost literally spitting fire was not one he'd expected. Hurriedly following the mage's long strides to Dorian's room, which was now more theirs if one was going to be technical, he shut the door behind them and watched Dorian pace. He kept a wary eye on the sparks of fire and electrical current flickering in a near-tangible aura around Dorian, but figured that shutting it down wouldn't be a wise move in the mood the mage was in at the moment.

"The nerve of _both of them_!" Dorian fumed as he gestured angrily, still pacing about the room as if trying to wear holes in the rugs. "First, our dear Inquisitor decides she knows what's best for me like all alphas do, even when they profess to respect omegas, then _my father_ does the same thing! While I'm quite used to it from him, it's nonetheless completely infuriating."

"Your father?" Cullen bristled in sympathetic outrage, beginning to get an idea of what had transpired.

Dorian paused to take a few deep breaths and leaned over his writing table as he visibly regained control of himself. "Might as well start at the beginning, yes?" Sinking into his desk chair with a heavy sigh, he rubbed his face and then lifted his head to look at Cullen with a sour expression. "The short version is this: my father corresponded with that meddling Chantry sister _behind my back_ , and because she has the spine of an over-boiled vegetable, she saw fit to go through the Inquisitor rather than me, and from _there_ the Inquisitor took it upon herself to essentially trick me into meeting my father, as if there was any shred of hope that I could _reconcile_ with him after what he did, let alone _forgive_ him."

Cullen blanched and approached Dorian to lay comforting hands on the mage's shoulders. "That's horrible," he murmured inadequately, at a loss for words.

"Yes, quite," Dorian snapped, though he leaned into Cullen's touch with a sigh as he tried to rein in his anger once more. "As if I hadn't already had quite enough of meddling alphas, let alone my own father, interfering in my life as if they have any idea whatsoever what's _best for me_." He paused again to remove his short cloak and tossed it carelessly onto the floor beside him. "So, needless to say, _that_ meeting didn't go well at all. My father, in all his usual obliviousness, acted as if it was just a simple misunderstanding, all the while trying to admonish me for being 'too emotional' about it, no less. He even dared imply that the result, that of my _leaving_ , to be precise, was not what he wanted. Well, fuck what _he_ wants," Dorian spat the last out, clenching his fists as he pounded the table once for emphasis.

Massaging Dorian's shoulders as the mage leaned on his elbows on the desk, Cullen bit back some angry words of his own on the matter and privately resolved to have a little talk with those involved. Shortly after that thought, however, he realized that his interference might not go over well. "I don't wish to add to the presumptuousness, but I'm more than willing to make it clear to the Inquisitor and Mother Giselle that such behavior is completely out of line."

Dorian bristled slightly and turned to look at Cullen. "I can handle my own affairs, amatus, but I appreciate the sentiment and that you're on my side in this."

"Of course, I won't say a word to either of them if you'd prefer, though I hope you won't be mad if I take the opportunity to scowl at them at the very least," Cullen murmured with a slight smile.

"By all means, scowl and glare away, amatus," Dorian replied with a faint smile of his own. He then turned serious once more and furrowed his brow. "I suppose my father truly _doesn't_ understand what he did, considering his own past, and so he doesn't see why I'd put up such a fuss about enduring abject misery for the sake of producing the next generation of House Pavus." He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Nonetheless, though the fact I had chosen to keep this little souvenir of his grand mistake in judgment thrilled him, I am even more adamantly resolved to keep my child safe from my parents even if it means never returning home."

"Completely understandable, and I support you in whatever decisions you make," Cullen murmured, idly wondering when would be a good time to bring up their own futures, and whether said futures would be together. He then remembered there was a somewhat more pressing issue to bring up, bad timing be damned. "I uh, was going to mention this before, but--well, there's been a delay in a shipment of some supplies here, and the last few doses of suppressants were given out yesterday," he said, blushing a bit.

"I had noticed you were smelling a bit ripe lately," Dorian mused as he reached up to rub Cullen's hands on his shoulders and seemed to relax with the change of subject. "While my condition will no doubt affect my stamina and flexibility somewhat, I think I'm up for seeing you through it if you'd like."

"I--well, that is..." Cullen stammered, his blush deepening as he gently extricated himself and moved a chair over to sit facing the mage. "I haven't _had_ a heat since... well, since _that time_ ," he murmured, fidgeting with clear discomfort. "I've taken suppressants at the slightest hint of heat since, but I thought it best that others who didn't have someone should get the last doses."

Dorian stared wide-eyed for a heartbeat before his expression turned carefully empathetic. "Oh, amatus," he said softly, reaching out to clasp Cullen's hands.

"I'd have liked to have brought this up before now, but the timing of this shortage is rather inconvenient," Cullen said, staring at their joined hands. "I admit I'm quite nervous about the prospect, not only because of my... inexperience, but because of... everything else too."

"If you'd like, perhaps maybe Solas has some herbs squirreled away that might help? He implied he knows a fair bit of herbology and perhaps some elven recipes are different," Dorian murmured gently as he watched Cullen's expression shift.

"I... suppose I could inquire," Cullen said slowly, unsure how he felt about it all either way. "Adan's also wandering about, I'm sure he knows something if Solas doesn't."

"It's not that I don't wish to see you through your heat, it's just that you seem less than thrilled by the prospect of having a heat at all, amatus."

"It's been over _ten years_! The idea shouldn't bother me anymore," Cullen muttered, frustrated with himself.

"And it's been nearly six months for me, yet if I had to guess, my last heat was almost pleasant in comparison," Dorian replied gently, squeezing Cullen's hands. "Amatus, I'd rather you feel comfortable if or when we do share a heat together, and that means I'll wait until you feel ready, not when circumstances conspire to try to force you to face things."

Cullen looked up at that and managed a faint smile, then nodded slowly. "I appreciate that, thank you."

"Now then, let's see about getting you a suppressant, one way or another," Dorian said, getting up and pulling Cullen to his feet.

Cullen walked beside Dorian until they reached Solas, and he explained the situation to the elf without blushing too much.

"I expect that with the shipment delayed, there may be more in need here depending on how long it takes for the caravan to arrive," Solas mused half to himself as he rummaged through his supplies. After a minute he shook his head and glanced to Cullen. "Unfortunately, I do not have the herbs on hand, but I can give you a list with instructions and either Adan or Elan may have them in stock."

"So you do use a different recipe," Dorian said, stroking his moustache.

Solas arched one eyebrow at Dorian before he wrote out a note. "There are a handful of different recipes depending on severity and other particulars, not because of any difference in physiology," he said evenly.

"The only difference really is human omegas tend to have heats around the solstices, and elves around the equinoxes," Cullen said, giving the two a curious glance.

"Correct, and depending on the climate and land, recipes differ with what herbs are available," Solas added, nodding at Cullen. He finished the note shortly and handed it to Cullen.

Thanking Solas, Cullen departed to find Adan with Dorian following a pace behind. "What's got you so curious about elves?" he asked, glancing to Dorian.

"Well, back home I'd never given it much thought, and it's not like I'd have asked some random elf about it," Dorian said somewhat defensively.

Cullen gave him a knowing look. "Because the elves you encountered were all slaves?"

Dorian had the grace to look uncomfortable. "Yes, that, and the fact that most of the ones I knew were betas. I'd also asked Solas before about whether elves were different than humans, back when you first cornered me about being pregnant."

Cullen blinked and furrowed his brow before he guessed what had happened. "Ah, he must have overheard, sorry about that."

Dorian shrugged it off and smiled. "What's done is done, amatus. No harm came of it, despite how I was sure others would object even more to my presence here as a result. It was a bit silly of me to worry, in hindsight, but I didn't want to be a liability."

"I'd have thought you'd be getting cabin fever by now, what with all the idle time you now have due to the Inquisitor leaving you behind while she goes off exploring," Cullen said as he raised his eyebrows at Dorian.

"Well, a bit, yes, but there are plenty of books to read, people to talk to, and food to eat that's even edible most of the time," Dorian said with a careless wave of his hands. " _And_ , last but certainly not least, it gives me more time to distract you from your work. Can't have you wearing yourself out doing _paperwork_ , of all things."

Cullen chuckled at that and rolled his eyes, then stopped where they were and glanced around to ensure no others were in earshot. "I suppose you ought to know, just to set the record straight if nothing else, that I didn't become pregnant at the time the Ferelden Circle was nearly destroyed," he said softly, glancing off to the side as he paused to think about how to say the rest. "I was perhaps four or so months along then, and I miscarried due to... what happened," he finished, still not quite able to put the details into words.

"I had wondered, amatus, but based on what you said I understood well enough what must have happened," Dorian said. "I can also see why having another heat after that could be... painful."

Cullen managed a half smile at that, rueful. "I haven't told anyone the details, and I don't think I'm ready yet to spell it out."

"Whether you go to your grave with it untold or not is your choice, amatus, and far be it for me to pry it out of you," Dorian said, stepping close to give Cullen a chaste kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in good news, I managed to finish this chapter and epilogue much sooner than expected!
> 
> Thank you to all who commented, gave kudos, and subscribed, and to all those who read and enjoyed. This fic was fun to write, so last but certainly not least, a big thanks goes to the original prompter for making this fic happen in the first place.

They eventually tracked down Adan, and much to Cullen's relief the necessary herbs were found and the potion made. Cullen drank it as soon as it was ready, and nodded as Adan told him he might feel a bit ill for the first full day. Returning to Dorian's room, Cullen took off his armor and stretched out on the bed with a sigh, feeling the potion beginning to lessen the effects of his heat along with the side effects Adan had mentioned.

"You look a bit pale, amatus."

"I'm alright, just feeling slightly queasy."

Dorian made to move toward the bed and then stopped suddenly, putting a hand to his belly as he blinked.

"Something wrong?" Cullen asked, half sitting up in concern.

"No, I--oh!" Dorian shifted his hand, blinked a couple more times, and then managed a faint smile. "It kicked me. I'd felt movement before, mostly on my bladder and kidneys at inconvenient moments during the night, but this is the first time--and there it goes again." He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, one hand still resting on his belly.

"May I?" Cullen asked hesitantly as he reached out. At Dorian's nod of permission, he put his own hand beside the mage's and waited for a few moments.

"Seems it doesn't wish to perform for an audience--ah, there it is. Feisty little one, isn't it?"

Cullen smiled softly and nodded.

"I suppose it's probably time to figure out what I wish to do when it decides to emerge into the world," Dorian murmured, giving Cullen an uncertain look.

"Have you chosen a name?"

"Nothing final yet, no, but I've thought about it," Dorian replied. "Anything from my immediate family tree is right out, though I suppose some suitable names could be found among distant cousins or a few generations back. For the middle name anyway. I rather like Felix or Felicia for a first name."

Cullen smiled softly and shifted back on the bed, drawing Dorian down with him and entwining their fingers as he turned onto his side to face the mage. "And what about... us?" he asked tentatively.

"What about us, amatus?" Dorian blinked as if oblivious of Cullen's meaning.

"Well, I... perhaps it's too soon to decide such things, or even discuss it," Cullen murmured, glancing away.

Dorian was quiet for long enough that Cullen tensed and began to pull away, but then he spoke. "Amatus, don't get me wrong, I'm not very... used to what we have, and it's something I had previously accepted I'd never have," he said softly, reaching out with his free hand to turn Cullen's face toward him. "I don't know what we have, for that matter, as we haven't put it into words, but nonetheless I enjoy your companionship."

Cullen swallowed hard and gave Dorian a cautiously searching look. "So this is new to both of us, then," he murmured. "I'd... like for it to continue, whatever it is, if that's what you want."

"You mean stay with me while I figure out the joys and trials of parenthood?" Dorian asked, quirking an amused smile.

Cullen nodded seriously and rested his free hand on Dorian's belly. "I'd like that, very much."

"As would I, amatus," Dorian said, covering Cullen's hand on his belly with his own.

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**EPILOGUE**

Approximately three and a half months later, Felicia Octavia Pavus emerged into the world with a loud wail of indignation. The birth itself went well, though with much cursing and complaining on Dorian's part as it took almost twelve hours from start to finish. Cullen remained at Dorian's side throughout, enduring his hands being crushed and Dorian's pained ranting with stoic resolve. Little Felicia proved to be a fussy baby for the first few months, but Cullen and Dorian worked out shifts to see to her needs, and Cassandra stepped in to take over many of Cullen's duties as the new parents adjusted to the baby's temperament and schedule.

As for the other residents of Skyhold, they also chipped in to help out. Blackwall made Felicia a mobile of carved wood and a sturdy crib, Cole entertained her when she was cranky, Leliana sang lullabies, Josephine made sure she had appropriate baby food and other practical necessities, and even Sera gave a gift of hand-made booties. Vivienne stopped by to offer congratulations and a finely made set of onesies in the latest Orlesian fashions, Varric told her bedtime stories, Solas painted her pictures, and Cassandra sewed some hats. Iron Bull, despite being wary and reluctant at first, took it upon himself to be her babysitter when the others were busy, though he needed tips and instruction from the Chargers on how to hold her properly. Even the Inquisitor and Mother Giselle offered gifts, and though Dorian was still a bit sore about their deceit with his father, he accepted their help graciously enough.

By the time Felicia was able to crawl around on her own, Dorian discovered just how many things in Skyhold were decidedly _not_ babyproof, and he took to fretting rather often to anyone within earshot. Adjustments were made where possible, and Dorian relocated to a room away from stairways and other such unsafe areas that Felicia was rather too curious about exploring, which she tended to do if one so much as glanced away for a moment.

"She'll be the death of me with the way she manages to get into things," Dorian complained one morning to Cullen, having just scooped Felicia up before she attempted to climb atop a barrel. Felicia was not happy at being thwarted, and she opened her mouth to begin wailing.

Cullen chuckled and gave Felicia a toy to chew on to distract her, and mercifully it worked for once. "I imagine you were similar as a baby, as was I."

"Must be why most families hire nannies," Dorian quipped, shifting Felicia in his arms. "I have few memories of my parents taking much interest in me as a child."

"At least half of Skyhold are her nannies," Cullen said with a smile, thinking of how they continued to be swamped in offers of varying helpfulness. "I grew up rather differently than you, though. Perhaps when Felicia's older we can go see Honnleath? Mia has been pestering me to meet both of you."

"That would be quaint, I suppose. As long as you don't think it'd be a good idea to let Felicia explore the hazards of farming, as it wouldn't do to ruin her clothes. More than she does on her own, at any rate."

"I managed to survive it just fine, along with my three siblings," Cullen said mildly, grinning. "Perhaps we could stay a while and sleep in the barn like I often did."

"The _barn_?" Dorian gave Cullen an incredulous look. "Surely you jest, amatus. All that hay getting in our clothes, and the _smell_... ugh, no. I much prefer a proper bed." He peered at Cullen with narrowed eyes, playfully suspicious. "You _do_ have proper beds there, yes?"

Cullen chuckled and nodded, leaning close to give Dorian an affectionate kiss. "Yes, no need to worry about that."

"Good. I've had quite enough of roughing it in the muck and other unmentionable substances while traveling with the Inquisitor, and I don't ever wish to repeat the experience."

"Here's hoping little Felicia's less fussy than her papa when she grows up," Cullen quipped, making faces at her to make her giggle.

"I am not _fussy_ , I just prefer to be comfortable, which entails not being covered in mud and hay and horse droppings," Dorian huffed. "And if you dare teach our daughter any bad habits, you can sleep in a barn alone."

Slightly caught off guard by Dorian saying Felicia was _their_ daughter, Cullen smiled a bit dazedly for a moment and then made a playful face at the mage. "If she learns bad habits it won't be from _me_."

"Oi, get a room, you two," Sera called out as she passed, shaking her head with a smile.


End file.
